Hermione's Mistake
by Luthien Maikasiriel Black
Summary: Hermione is forced to take remedial Potions after failing her exam. Naturally, they soon become completely unnecessary, so she sets about using the time to create a love potion to give to Ron. Unfortunately, she makes a little mistake...
1. In which Hermione feels ill

"Hermione Granger," said Professor McGonagall. Hermione followed her through the door into the Transfiguration classroom. There was one desk in the middle of the room. On it sat a teacup. "Stand here please Miss Granger. Wand ready? Very well, you first task is revision – transform this into a mouse, please. Very good. Now, task two..."  
  
Fifteen minutes later...  
  
Professor McGonagall removed the fishbowl containing a goldfish that Hermione had transformed into seaweed, and then restored. "Only one more to go, Miss Granger. You may transfigure the desk into whatever you wish. You will get points for how complex and exact your object is, and how well you manage to return it to its original form." Hermione almost gasped aloud. She couldn't think. Her mind had gone completely blank. Nerves were making her head ache terribly. Why couldn't McGonagall have suggested something? There wasn't nothing to do but wing it. Hermione closed her eyes and swished her wand in a well-remembered path. Too nervous to open her eyes, she just stood there and waited until Professor McGonagall asked her to reverse the spell. "Mmm...interesting," said the professor in an odd voice. "I suppose this has some significance in the Muggle world? Well, it seems very well done, and it is more difficult to transfigure into multiple objects, but it does seem a somewhat odd choice." Hermione opened her eyes cautiously, and checked a groan of dismay. "May I revert it now?" she asked. "Certainly. Very good, just as it was. Possibly better than it was. Thank you Miss Granger, if you would like to leave through that door."  
  
Hermione walked out through the doorway, and shut the door behind her. She leaned her sore head against the cold stone wall, and choked back tears. Still, she had done everything fine, even that last one. If only they gave points for originality – she was certain no one else would have decided to transfigure the desk into a glass of water and two aspirin. This wasn't helping her learn for her last exam, though. She rubbed her eyes, and started to walk back to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"Only one exam to go!" Seamus yelled out to the common room in general. Angelina Johnson threw a cushion at him from behind her books, where she, like all the other seventh years, was studying frantically for her N.E.W.T.s. Neville looked like he was about to burst into tears. "B-b-but it's potions," he moaned. A few people looked at him sympathetically. No-one could understand why he had kept on with it, although it may have been something to do with the Howler his grandmother had sent him threatening disembowelment if he didn't continue with the "worthy" subjects. Certainly Professor Snape had been threatening disembowelment when he found out Neville was continuing. In one of his more hysterical moments Neville had asked the professor if there was a potion to make people good at Potions. Snape hadn't even deigned to reply – just swirled his cloak around his body, as if to shield it from Neville, and stalked away.  
  
Hermione groaned and leaned her head against the cool pages of her copy of 'Dastardly Drafts and Potent Potions'. She felt awful, like she was coming down with the flu or something. She could go to Madam Pomfrey, but that would take away from her precious studying time. She rubbed her eyes, and tried to read page 151 for the tenth time. "Are you alright, Hermione?" asked Harry, looking concerned. "I'm fine!" she snapped shrilly, "just tired." He looked vaguely affronted, and went back to reading his copy of 'Quidditch through the Ages' again. Hermione frowned. Bloody Harry! Why did he have to ask her how she was? Why couldn't Ron ask how she was? Or didn't he care? She didn't want Harry talking to her all the time. There was enough gossip about her and Harry as it was. Even if Ron did like her he probably wouldn't say anything because he'd think he was stealing her away from Harry or something stupid like that. Hermione groaned. Sometimes she thought too much for her own good. "I'm going to bed," she said quietly. Harry looked up and said goodnight. Ron only gave an off-hand "night" from behind his book. She frowned again. He wasn't exactly making life any easier for her.  
  
She yawned as she walked up the staircase to her dormitory. She'd been planning on looking up love spells again tonight before the other girls came to bed, but she was just too tired. Anyway, they all seemed to be spells for finding out who your true love was, which was no use to Hermione. She'd tried a few at the beginning, and they'd only confirmed what she'd already known. She'd even tried the old muggle tradition of peeling an apple (when she'd finally convinced her parents that she really did need a vegetable peeler for one of her classes) and throwing the peel over her shoulder to spell out the first initial of her true love. That had worked, too; unless her feelings had completely decieved her and Roger Davies really was her type.  
  
For the first night in months Hermione didn't lay awake worrying about her lovelife (or lack of, more to the point). She collapsed weakly onto the four-poster bed, and fell asleep fully clothed.  
  
That night Hermione tossed and turned, dreaming feverish dreams. Roller- blading spiders...following butterflies...Hogwarts' first red-headed Quidditch captain...someone telling her that she was "bloody brilliant"...a lion - shaking her ...Hermione! ...Hermione! ...Oh, it's no good, she just won't wake ...Someone go and get a wet flannel ...Why? No, don't bother with that ...Look – excito!  
  
Hermione woke with a start, to find her blankets twisted around her, and Lavender and Parvati looking down at her with concerned faces. Her heart sank, and she almost bolted to the bathroom to throw up. Today was her Potions exam, and she couldn't remember a thing! 


	2. Breakfast in the Great Hall

Disclaimer (oops, forgot to do this last chapter!): I don't own any of the characters, etc mentioned here, as much as I might want to. Still, a girl can dream!  
  
Hermione reassured Lavender and Parvati that she had simply slept badly because she was nervous about the exam. They took some convincing, but eventually they left her to have a quick shower and pull on her robes hurriedly. She had hoped the shower would help her to feel better, but despite having the hot water as high as it would go, she was still left feeling cold and shaky, not to mention her head, which was still aching terribly. Realising she was running late for breakfast she ran out of the room, before returning to grab 'Dastardly Drafts and Potent Potions'. Hopefully she would be able to read it at breakfast, and remember something about Potions before the exam. She raced out the room and down the stairs to the Great Hall, only the anti-tripping charms preventing her from missing her step and falling down the last five flights.  
  
Everyone looked at her curiously as she entered the Great Hall. Hermione was famous for her punctuality (apart from a few strange incidents in third year, but everyone seemed to have forgotten them). Not quite as famous as for being a know-all, but famous nonetheless. She bowed her head and walked quickly to the Gryffindor table, where Harry and Seamus made room for her.  
  
"You all right, Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"For the last time, I'm fine!" Hermione said sharply. "I'm just nervous about the exam." She sighed; she didn't want to be mean to Harry, but Ron hadn't even bothered to say 'good morning' to her. As she sat down hurriedly, she missed Ron shooting her a concerned glance. He looked as though he was about to say something to her, but instead he blushed and turned his attention back to his porridge. Instead it was Seamus who spoke to her.  
  
"You think you're nervous," he said, "you obviously haven't seen Neville." Hermione glanced past him to where Neville was sitting. He was about the same colour as Trevor the toad. In fact, with a look at Trevor, who was sitting on the table, Hermione decided the toad actually looked better than Neville. Still, looking at Neville wouldn't help her learn anything about Potions. She pulled the textbook out from her robes and set it down on her lap, hoping that no one would see. They'd probably tell her she studied too hard and take the book away.  
  
"Aren't you going to have any breakfast, Hermione?" Seamus asked.  
  
"Oh, I'll just have some toast." With that, two slices of toast materialised on the plate in front of her. The topping varied from day to day. On special occasions Dumbledore would let them have Naxyberry jam, which had happiness-inducing properties. On one occasion when Professor Snape had been it an especially foul mood he had gone down to the kitchen and ordered the house elves to change the topping. The next morning the students had found their toast covered in an especially distasteful version of anchovy-and-flobberworm paste. Hermione wondered if maybe he'd decided to give them a surprise just before their exam when her toast appeared covered in some sort of brown goo. She raised one piece and sniffed it, before biting a corner gingerly. Feeling sick as she was, it was also she could do to not spit it out. "What is this?" she asked. Harry laughed.  
  
"You're not the only one," he said, gesturing at numerous students around the hall gagging on their breakfast. "See her?" he said. Hermione looked where he was pointing at an unfamiliar student sitting at the Ravenclaw table. She seemed to be the only person in the room enjoying the toast. "She's the new exchange student, just arrived here from Australia. Dumbledore decided to make her feel at home by putting Vegemite on the toast." Hermione smiled wanly.  
  
"I don't know if that was a good idea," she commented, "everyone will probably be wanting her to leave now. Anyway, I'm going back upstairs, I might try to do some last-minute revision."  
  
"But you haven't had any breakfast!"  
  
"You sound just like my mother," she snapped, and hurried out the room. Ron made to go after her, but Harry pulled him down.  
  
"Why's she being so mean to me, Ron? Anyway, I liked her mum." Ron shrugged.  
  
"You know what Hermione's like around exams. She'll be right this afternoon." Ron looked around to see if he could go after her again, but his way was blocked. His worst enemy, Draco Malfoy, stood there shadowed by his friends Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"What's wrong with your girlfriend, Potter?" drawled Malfoy. Harry opened his mouth in surprise, but Ron beat him to it.  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!"  
  
"Oooh, a bit touchy are we, Weasel? I suppose it's jealousy. After all, everyone knows you're never going to get a girlfriend. Who'd want someone with a family as poor and disgraceful as yours? Not to mention those freckles. Ugh." Ron swung his arm back, ready to punch Malfoy so hard he'd be seeing stars for a month, but Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him down.  
  
"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry said calmly, "don't you have something better to do? Some more embroidery to do?" The Gyrffindor table sniggered at the reminder of the time he had been caught embroidering a handkerchief for his mother. Draco blanched, and then turned on his heel and walked away, Crabbe and Goyle trailing after. "Oh, and Hermione's not my girlfriend," Harry called after him.  
  
"Why on earth did you say that?" Seamus asked him.  
  
"But she's not my girlfriend," Harry said.  
  
"Yeah, but saying that's hardly going to help. It'll be all over Witch Weekly: 'Harry Potter denies relationship.' Then people will be on the look out to prove you wrong, show that you and Hermione really are an item. Even though you're not."  
  
"Well, what am I meant to say. If I deny it, they won't believe me, but if I lie and say we are going out, they will believe me!"  
  
"He's not the messiah, he's a very naughty boy," muttered Dean.  
  
"What?" said Seamus.  
  
"Nothing – muggle joke."  
  
"I don't know it," said Harry.  
  
"Well, yeah, but you had a deprived childhood."  
  
"There was nothing wrong with my childhood!" retorted Harry heatedly.  
  
"Mate, you spent it with the Dursleys," pointed out Ron.  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Harry quietly. Everyone got up to leave. Ron sighed, only ten minutes until the Potions exam, not long enough to go and check if Hermione was alright. He followed the others out of the Great Hall, and down to the dungeon.  
  
ooo  
  
A/N I got kind of distracted in this chapter. Sorry! The exam was meant to take place (I've even written a little bit of it), but I never got there. Also, I got a bit distracted from Hermione, I was having too much fun in the Great Hall! Oh well, hopefully I'll get back on track next chapter.  
  
Dean's "muggle joke" is from The Life of Brian. 


	3. An exam, a party and an explosion

I don't own any of this. If I ever do gain ownership, I promise to let you all know. Who knows, I might even be able to share it around! ;-P

* * *

The sixth years taking the Potions exam filed silently into the dungeon, Ron and Harry among them. The room was filled with lots of little cubicles, each supplied with all the necessary equipment, including a sturdy cauldron, beakers, spoons, and knives. The ingredients were secreted in silver containers, which would be charmed so the students could not open them until the exam had started. They each moved silently to a cubicle, no one wanting to disturb anything and risk raising Professor Snape's ire. Neville went to a corner cubicle, hoping he could stay unnoticed, while Harry and Ron settled into cubicles next to each other, in the middle of the room. Hermione stood back, unsure of where to go. Eventually there was only one left, on the right hand side of the room, which Hermione sat down at quietly. She was shivering slightly, however she couldn't decide if it was the everpresent chill of the dungeons, or the mind-numbing fear she faced. She had read at least three of her Potions books in the common room, desperately trying to remember something. She thought she had learnt a few useful things, but it was like trying to hold water in a paper bag; by the time she reached bottom of the main staircase they had gone again. There was nothing she could do, she would just have to hope that some innate ability would allow her to pass her exams.  
  
Professor Snape swept into the room, closing the door firmly behind him.  
  
"Very well, you are all here to complete your Potions practical examination. During this examination you are expected to complete one potion heretofore unknown to you. It is extremely complex, and the slightest mistake on your part could result in disaster," he glanced pointedly at Neville. "However, the attentive student, who has listened to every instruction in every class, should find it presents no challenge. When I turn over the hourglass, the instructions will appear inside the cubicle in front of you. You will have two hours in which to complete the potion. You must then decant it into the silver flask, which you will leave next to your cauldron. Be warned, any attempts to cheat, including looking at the work of any of your fellow students, will have most dire consequences. Do you understand me?" He looked around the room. Everyone avoided his gaze, except for Malfoy, who looked smugly back at him. "Very well. The examination commences...now." He waved his wand, and the large hourglass at the front of the room turned over. Silver sand began to trickle down into the bottom, glowing slightly as it did so.  
  
The instructions appeared in front of Hermione. She stared blankly at them, unsure where to start. 'Finely slice two mandrake roots.' That seemed simple enough. She opened her containers carefully until she found the mandrake roots, and selected the two best. She began to slice them with a delicate copper knife, but her hands were shaking badly. The slices were extremely uneven in size, and some of them had not even been cut through. She rested her cool hands against her hot, aching forehead. If only she could remember a spell to soothe her head, but everything seemed foggy. She sighed and tried to calm herself down – panicking now wouldn't achieve anything. She returned to her potion, and moved on to the next step. She gradually moved through each instruction, trying to complete them carefully, but nothing seemed to be going right. It took her five minutes to light the fire underneath the cauldron, and that was a simple spell she had learnt in first year. Her palms were beginning to sweat, and her head was aching worse than ever. One instruction required her to stir the potion ten times in a clockwise direction, but she lost count after a few stirs. She couldn't even find the boomslang skin. Finally she realised she was up to step twenty-eight - the last one. She sighed with relief. She only had a little time left. The hourglass was beginning to glow more and more brightly as time ran out, and the top bulb was almost empty. She leaned in to read it more closely, and almost gasped with shock as she realised she had completely missed steps twenty to twenty-five. She looked around at all the other students, who were finishing up. Even Neville was starting to decant his potion. She sighed, and added the obsidian powder. Her hand slipped, and she added more than twice as much as she needed. She looked down at her potion in horror as it bubbled, with a thick layer of smoke filling up the cauldron and rolling over the edges. As it cleared her finished potion came into view. The obsidian powder was intended to thicken the potion to a syrup. Unfortunately hers had thickened too much. In fact it had solidified into a small, glistening rock at the bottom of the cauldron. She stared at it, and began to shake more violently than ever. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't even hand that up; it would never fit into the silver flask. Discreetly, she pick up the pestle she had used to crush the scarab beetle eyes, and tried to use it to break off part of the rock. Suddenly, just as she broke of a bit, there was a commotion at the front of the room.  
  
Goyle had stood up suddenly, let out a strangled yelp, and fallen to the ground. Professor Snape hurried forwards, as the Slytherins in the room let out concerned exclamations. Just then the hourglass let out a great flash of light, almost blinding those students who were unfortunate enough to be looking at it. Professor Snape stood up from where he had been leaning over Goyle.  
  
"Mister Goyle will be fine. If someone could take him down to the hospital wing? Thankyou Mister Crabbe, Miss Bulstrode. I assume your potions are completed and in their flasks? Very well, you may take him down. The rest of you ensure have decanted your potions into the flask, then you may depart. Quietly, thankyou." The students hurried out of the room, some already discussing the exam, others speculating on what had happened to Goyle. Hermione quickly shoved some of the pebbles and dust into the flask before rushing out.  
  


OoOoOoOoO  


  
She caught up with Harry and Ron just as they got to the Gryffindor common room, where they were discussing what had happened to Goyle.  
  
"Personally, I think it was brain cramp," Ron was saying. Harry frowned.  
  
"Brain cramp? Is that some sort of wizarding disease I've never heard of?"  
  
"Nah. You know when you stretch your leg too far, or use it the wrong way, and get a leg cramp? Well, it's kinda like that, but in his brain." Harry laughed. The Fat Lady interrupted them.  
  
"I'm sure you're enjoying your discussion of your unfortunate friend," Ron sniggered at this, "but if you want to go in, say the password and get inside. I don't want to wait for you all day."  
  
"Sorry," said Harry, "elixir." The painting swung open, and they walking into the common room, which was filled with sixth years celebrating the end of their exams. Butterbeer and fizzing whizbees were being passed around, and everyone was talking as loudly as they could. The seventh years had obviously decided to go to the library or somewhere equally quiet to study; there was no way they'd be finding a quiet spot in the common room. Harry turned around as he heard Hermione walk in behind them.  
  
"Hi, Hermione! I suppose you're glad that's over. I don't know why you get so worried though, you always get full marks. Still, I suppose even the brightest witch of our age has to get the odd pre-exam jitters." Hermione smiled wanly. Ron turned around, and looked at her pale face.  
  
"Are you okay, Hermione? You don't look too well."  
  
"I'm fine," she wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come out. She felt weak and shaky, and her legs didn't seem strong enough to hold her up. She leaned against the wall heavily.  
  
"Hermione?" said Ron again. "You look really sick. I think we should take you to the hospital wing and see what Madam Pomfrey says." She shook her head, and immediately regretted it as pain filled it.  
  
"I'm alright," she said faintly. "I've just been studying too hard. I might go and lie down. I just need to rest."  
  
She walked across the common room and up the stairs, Harry and Ron looking after her concernedly.  
  
"I should go and make sure she's alright," said Ron, starting across the room. Harry grabbed the back of his robes.  
  
"You can't. Remember what happened last time you tried to go up there? We'll get Parvati to go up. Hey, Parvati!"  
  
Parvati turned around, a frothing butterbeer in her hand.  
  
"Oh, hi Harry!" she said, blushing slightly. "Do you want a butterbeer?"  
  
"Oh, er, thanks," Harry said slightly confusedly, blushing in return. "Listen, could you do me a favour? We're a bit worried about Hermione. She's gone up to your dormitory, do you think you could go and see if she's feeling alright?"  
  
"Sure," said Parvati, handing him the butterbeer. She moved through the crowd to the stairs Hermione had walked up a few moments before. A minute later she was back.  
  
"Well, she seems alright," she said. "I looked in, and she was fast asleep on her bed, fully dressed. I pulled a blanket over her, I think she'll be okay. She's probably just tired out, you know how hard she's been studying." Harry smiled at her.  
  
"Thanks for that, Parvati." He raised his voice slightly as someone put on the new Weird Sisters album. "Um, I don't suppose you'd like a dance. No, sorry, stupid question, forget I asked," he muttered. Parvati shook her head.  
  
"I'd love a dance, Harry." Harry looked at her in shock.  
  
"You would, er, I mean, that would be great." He turned to Ron. "Ron, stop looking so worried, mate. You heard Parvati, Hermione's fine. She's just tired out." He took Parvati's arm, and left Ron looking concerned, and unsure what to do next. In the end he grabbed a butterbeer and sat down in an armchair. Around him the party carried on, and upstairs Hermione slept deeply.  
  


OoOoOoOoO  


  
Suddenly, there was a loud explosion. Hermione awoke, groggy and disoriented. It was still dark, and she could hear sleepy exclamations from all over the tower.  
  
"What's happening?" Lavender asked sleepily.  
  
"I don't know," she said. "It sounds like everyone's going down to the common room." They got up and joined all the other girls on the staircase down to the common room. Everyone milled around looking confused. Most people were yawning, and a few seemed to have curled up in the armchairs and gone back to sleep.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione could hear people saying, "What's going on?"  
  
"Everybody listen to me!" A few people jumped, amidst the confusion most people hadn't noticed Professor McGonagall come into the room.  
  
"We're not exactly sure what has happened. All we know is that there has been some sort of magical explosion outside. All exits from Hogwarts are completely blocked. Professor Dumbledore has contacted the Ministry of Magic. They have not had sufficient time to work out what has happened, however they do not believe it to be dangerous. They will contact us as soon as they have further information. In the meantime, there is nothing you can do, so I suggest you all go back to bed and try to get a few hours sleep before bedtime. We will inform you of further developments at breakfast. Thankyou, now back to bed, all of you. What's that, Colin? Yes, I am sure you will all be able to get home for the holidays. Don't worry, we don't want you here either. Now, bed, everyone!" Most people were more inclined to stay in the common room, preferably to continue with their end- of-exam celebrations, but Professor McGonagall was firm. She ushered them all back to the dormitories, and ensure everyone was quiet at least, if not actually asleep. Hermione lay down gratefully. She still felt ill, and quickly fell back asleep.  
  


OoOoOoOoO  


  
The next morning she overslept, and was again late to breakfast. Thankfully, despite the broken night, she felt much better, and due to the excitement of the events, her late entrance to the Great Hall attracted little attention. Harry smiled at her.  
  
"You look a lot better," he commented as he made room for her to sit next to him. "Can you move up a bit further?" he said to Parvati, who was sitting on his other side. She sat down, and took a bowl of porridge. She noticed that almost every other student was eating either porridge or scrambled eggs; no one had been brave enough to try the toast. The conversation mainly centred on the mysterious explosion.  
  
"Gas explosion," Dean said around a mouthful of eggs.  
  
"Honestly, Dean," said Lavender impatiently, "something like that's not going to block all the entrances to Hogwarts, is it? Anyway, you heard McGonagall, it's a magical explosion."  
  
"Could be magical gas," muttered Dean darkly.  
  
Just then Dumbledore tapped a glass, and attention turned to the front of the hall. He smiled down at them, as they gradually became quiet.  
  
"I have just received news, both good and bad, from the Ministry of Magic. They have had experts out here, and believe they have discovered the cause of last night's disturbance. It was an explosion of adamas gas, which has created an impenetrable cloud around the school grounds. By impenetrable, I mean that all paths, including the floo network, are blocked to us."  
  
"See, magical gas!" whispered Dean triumphantly, then gulped as the headmaster gazed at him.  
  
"Thankyou, Mister Thomas. As I was saying, what we heard was an explosion of adamas gas. The good news is that as the Ministry of Magic knows what has occurred their experts will be able to immediately start removing the cloud. However the bad news is that an explosion of this type is extremely rare, and extremely complex to resolve. It will take at least five weeks before anyone can leave the castle." Uproar immediately broke out around the hall. They were meant to be leaving for the holidays; no one wanted to spend the summer holidays at school. "Quiet, please," Dumbledore continued. "I am quite aware that none of you want to miss out on your valuable holidays. Rather, we will delay your holidays until the cloud is cleared, and in the meantime the staff have agreed to start you on next years' lessons. Seventh years will be able to discuss their plans with us; many of you who are considering careers such as Healing will be able to start further study by owl. If you have any further questions, you may take them up with your head of house. Lessons will continue as usual on Monday. Thankyou."  
  
The students looked at each other. No one quite knew what to say. It seemed they would simply have to put up with being stuck at school for a few more weeks.

* * *

A huge thankyou to everyone who has reviewed! It's been fantastic to see what you think. Next time I'll try to give a personal thankyou to each person who's reviewed. And remember, the more interesting you make your reviews, the more I'll have to write back!  
  
PS The "brain cramp" comment comes from Aussie comedians Roy & HG's commentary of last year's Rugby World Cup grand final, where they described England captain Martin Johnson as having cramp in the brain. I loved that, and just had to work it in somehow (please don't flame me if you're an English rugby fan!)  



	4. The potion is made, and drunk

Sorry this took forever, everyone! I know I promised to write messages for all of my lovely reviewers, but seeing it took me so long to write this chapter, I figured you'd prefer me to post this asap, rather than sitting around and procrastinated for a few more weeks about writing messages! Please keep reviewing, though - I wouldn't have written this chapter at all if it hadn't been for you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing... (I'm a poor student!)

* * *

Only a week after the explosion the confinement had already started getting to everyone. The students were all frustrated at missing out on their summer holidays, with the exception of a few Slytherins who preferred the dark and cold. The professors were setting more and more work, hoping it would keep the students out of their sight for a while. Even Professor Sprout had snapped at a young Slytherin when he whined about being sick of seeing the professors, reportedly saying that frankly she was "sick of seeing him, too, but seeing there was nothing either of them could do about it they'd just have to put up with it, preferably in silence."

In the Gryffindor common room everyone was working hard to try and get through all the work they had been given. Hermione was scribbling furiously at a test. She'd been working harder than ever, desperately trying to make up for her disastrous work while she had been sick. She was dreading having her exams returned, especially Potions. She'd started having nightmares of Professor Snape brandishing a piece of parchment at her and telling her they'd had to invent an even lower grade just for her exam. Luckily the spectre of the exam seemed to be resting in the back of her mind for the time being, and she was able to concentrate hard on her work. Harry was sitting in an armchair by the fire poring over his Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks. He kept fidgeting occasionally. Down the other end of the common room Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus and Lavender were all sitting at a table to do their homework. Neville was staring in horror at the essay Professor Snape had set him. He'd been given five feet of parchment on how the phases of the moon affected the brewing of certain potions, due in the next morning. Lavender looked at him curiously.

"Why do you have to do that?" she asked quietly. "Upset Snape again?" Neville smiled wanly. He opened and shut his mouth, but didn't seem capable of brining himself to say something. Ron looked over.

"Don't mind him, he's got post-traumatic stress. Snape got snotty with him towards the end of the lesson. Said he was being 'grossly disrespectful'."

"'Grossly disrespectful'?" Lavender echoed in surprise. Ron grinned.

"Yeah. We're not completely sure, but we think it was because Neville was so busy reading that he didn't flinch when Snape spoke to him. Snape seemed so enraged that he might be losing his touch that he snapped and set that essay." Lavender shook her head in silent compassion, as Neville began to twitch.

Down the other end of the table Dean and Seamus were trying to stay focussed by rewarding each other with fizzing whizbees each time they properly completed a foot of their homework. Dean shoved a piece of parchment across to Seamus. Seamus looked up from his own work and scanned it quickly.

"Nice work, mate," he grinned, and tossed one of the lollies across the table to Dean. Before anyone could react Harry had launched himself out of his armchair, leapt across the room, and grabbed the lolly at full stretch. He grinned and popped it in his mouth, before sauntering back across his room and regathering his textbooks from where they had fallen on the floor. The rest of the common room was staring at him in surprise. Hermione turned to look at Parvati, who was sitting behind her. Parvati smiled at Harry indulgently.

"Quidditch withdrawal," she said nonchalantly, in answer to Hermione's unasked question. Hermione shook her head in despair, and returned to her test. Everyone settled back into their work, and quiet descended on the room. It didn't last long though. Only a few minutes later the portrait hole creaked open. Everyone looked up at Professor McGonagall standing in the entrance.

"Hermione Granger, can I please speak to you for a moment? The rest of you can get back to work." Hermione turned pale, and stood up slowly. She walked across the common room and followed Professor McGonagall outside. Ron looked at the closed portrait hole for a few moments, before reluctantly returning to his work. Professor McGonagall led Hermione towards her study, shutting the door firmly once they were both inside.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," she said. Hermione was shaking inside; she knew this was about her exams. Professor McGonagall sat down on the other side of the desk and looked sombrely at Hermione. "You may remember I was somewhat surprised by your efforts in your Transfiguration exam. I was happy to pass you, of course, but it was not exactly what I had expected of you. Even more unexpected were the results of your Potions exam. When Professor Snape showed me what you had produced, I almost told him there had been some mistake. However, as you know, there can be no mistake in such matters. I am sorry to tell you that you have failed your exam. Do you have any explanation?" Hermione simply stared at her hands folded in her lap, trying desperately to hold back tears. Professor McGonagall waited for a moment, but Hermione was unable to respond.

"Very well. Fortunately, these exams are simply preparation for you OWLs, so there will be no serious ramifications. Your work seems to have returned to its usual standard, so we will simply review the result as an unusual aberration. However, due to the fact that you are continuing Potions in your seventh year, I have arranged with Professor Snape for you to take remedial potions until the end of the term." Hermione gaped at her.

"B-but you said I'm fine now. I don't need to!"

"I would simply like to be assured that you are sound in your understanding of Potions. You must realise the hopes we have for you Miss Granger. It would be a great pity indeed if you were to ruin your chances simply because you refuse to undertake a little revisionary study." Professor McGonagall relented as she saw Hermione turn white. "Very well, Miss Granger. Shall I tell Professor Snape that you will present yourself in the dungeons at 7pm tomorrow evening." Hermione nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good. Don't look so miserable Miss Granger. I'm sure you can make the most of the time. Perhaps you can use it for seventh year study, or Professor Snape may allow you to work on a project of your own. That will be all, you may return to the common room now." Hermione turned and left the room.

* * *

The next evening Hermione promptly presented herself to Professor Snape.

"Come in, Miss Granger. Sit down. Yes, yes, by the cauldron. You don't think you are going to study Potions without a cauldron? So, I believe you are here for remedial Potions?" He seemed to be taking a great deal of pleasure in the words 'remedial Potions'. Hermione had to restrain herself from poking her tongue out or something equally childish. Professor Snape looked down at her. "I must say your exam results were truly horrific. Even Master Longbottom managed to do better than you, and he was reading his instructions upside-down! Therefore, we must start with the basics. I suppose I can only hope you won't bring the castle down on us."

Half-an-hour later Hermione was again fighting the urge to poke her tongue out at Snape. It wasn't in her nature at all, but she felt she was entitled to a little imbecility after successfully completing every task he had set her. She could have sworn he looked disappointed, despite the fact that he was looking at her with his usual inscrutable gaze.

"Very well, Miss Granger. It appears there is no point whatsoever in my instructing you in remedial Potions. I have other projects far more worthy of my time, so I hope you have some assignment you can work on for the rest of the sessions." Hermione smiled, although not too broadly – she didn't want to upset him.

"Yes, Professor." He looked at her with a faint glimmer of suspicion in his eyes. Not that that was anything new; he was always ready to suspect the worst of students.

"Hmmm. The storeroom is available for your use. I trust you not to make anything dangerous, of course if you do I will be forced to test it on Potter. I will be in my study if you require me." Hermione could barely wait for him to leave the room before she pulled a parchment out of her robes. It was soft and ragged, like it had been unfolded and read, then hurriedly shoved out of sight many times. She ran over to the storeroom and carefully started pulling ingredients down...

* * *

It took only a week of nightly sessions for Hermione to complete her potion. She was exceedingly excited. It had taken months of saving for her to accumulate the galleons she needed for the potion recipe, and the parchment had arrived in a small black, velvet package only the morning before she had started remedial Potions. But finally, after all her angst and worrying, she had created a potion that would win the heart of the one she loved. It was foolproof. All she had to do was slip it into his pumpkin juice the next morning. She decanted it into a small glass vial, stoppered it carefully and sealed it with some wax. She then slipped it into the deepest pocket of her robes, and slipped out of the dungeons.

* * *

She was the first student up in the Gryffindor tower the next morning. She hurriedly pulled on her robes and dashed down the stairs. She pushed the Great Hall doors open with a crash, expecting the room to be empty. To her surprise Professor Dumbledore was sitting in his place at the head of the room. He smiled down at her.

'Hungry, Miss Granger?' he said in his soft voice that somehow managed to fill the entire room. She stopped, confused.

'Um, yes, sir. Ravenous. Being studying all night.' He raised an eyebrow.

'Oh dear. I do hope you're not working yourself too hard. We wouldn't like to see a repeat of the last exams, you know.' Hermione blushed.

'Well, when I say I worked all night, I mean, I didn't work _all _night.'

'Ah, I understand. You studied all night, but not _all _night.' Hermione stared at her feet. 'You must be eager to start your breakfast, Miss Granger. I won't keep you any longer.' Hermione sat down gratefully and served herself a bowl of porridge.

Gradually the other students began to trickle in to the room. Some, like Colin Creavey, were bright and cheery and looked like they'd been on holidays for a week. Most of the students, though, looked like they'd slept on the flagstone floor and been dragged down to the Great Hall headfirst. Ron was among the last to enter, much to Hermione's agitation, as she was worried someone would take the place next to her where she needed him to sit for her plan to work. He looked bleary-eyed around the room, and started to head towards a spot next to Seamus. Luckily, just as his gaze passed over Hermione she was able to produce a smile, and he changed his course. He sat down next to her with a groan.

"I hate Friday mornings," he muttered.

"Ron, you hate every morning."

"I like Saturday."

"Only when you get to sleep in. You hate it when you're at home and your mum gets you up at seven o'clock to de-gnome the garden."

"I was trying to forget that." Hermione smiled at him again.

"Would you like some pumpkin juice?"

"Oh, thanks Hermione. That'd be great." Hermione poured him a generous goblet of pumpkin juice. Hopefully the flavour of the juice would conceal the potion. She fiddled with it where it was concealed in its vial in the sleeve of her robe, nervously watching for a moment to slip it into his juice unobserved.

Just then Malfoy and his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, came sauntering over to the Gryffindor table. Everyone at the table tensed; Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in the last Quidditch match of the term, and although it had been over three weeks ago Malfoy was still holding a grudge. He stood behind Ron and Harry, who were sitting next to each other, and stared down at them.

"Morning Potty, Weasel. Sitting next to one another again, I see. You know you really should stop doing absolutely everything together. People are starting to talk." Harry glared and began to stand up. After a few seconds Crabbe and Goyle began to snigger.

"Just what do you think you're implying?" Harry snapped. Draco smiled calmly.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything. Just making an observation."

"Well here's an observation for you. Why don't you shut your fat mouth, or I'll shut it for you. Permanently." Harry pulled his wand out from his robes.

"What on earth is going on here, gentlemen?" Everyone jumped as Professor McGonagall appeared beside the table. Hermione took advantage of the distraction to whip the vial out of her sleeve and pour the contents in to Ron's goblet. "Well? I'm waiting for an explanation." Draco grinned.

"Nothing, Professor. We were just having a little disagreement about a homework question." She glanced at him witheringly, then at Harry.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Mr Potter?"

"No, Professor," he muttered.

"Very well. If you two ever make such a disgraceful display in the Great Hall again you will be on detention for a month. Now, go and finish your breakfast." She turned away and walked back to the teachers' table. Harry sat down and started cutting up some bacon savagely. Ron glared up at Draco.

"What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be over with all your inbred little friends?" Draco just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I wouldn't want to spend any more time with you." He reached over and grabbed Ron's goblet of pumpkin juice. Hermione watched in horror as he downed the contents before sauntering back to the Slytherin table with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.


	5. Hermione waits for the aftermath

Hermione watched in slack-jawed horror as Draco sauntered back to the Slytherin table. Ron patted her on the arm.

'It's all right, Hermione – magic refill jugs, remember? Draco can drink as much of my pumpkin juice as he wants, as long as it shuts him up for a few second.' The others sitting around them laughed, but Hermione could barely fake a smile.

'I've just remembered…I forgot something,' she muttered, and walked out the hall. Ron and Harry looked at her, and then each other.

'What's up with Hermione?' said Ron.

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'She's been a bit funny for a while now. Do you think we should go after her?'

'No,' said Ron emphatically. 'Let her have some space. If she doesn't come back soon, we can go and check that she's alright, but other than that I'd say she wants to be alone right now.'

'But remember what happened with the troll-'

'Harry, not everyone needs to be saved by you!' snapped Ron. Harry's face reddened, and he opened his mouth to yell back. Next to him, Parvati's fact also darkened. Ron was saved as the hall suddenly broke into uproar. Ron and Harry looked around, and saw hundreds of owls swooping into the room. Everyone started cheering.

'They must've gotten rid of the gas,' someone said excitedly.

'Great!' said Ron.

'Yeah, great,' said Harry, not quite so enthusiastically. They both jumped as Dean Thomas, seated across from them, let out a loud yell.

'I've got it! It was you, Harry.'

'What are you talking about?' said Harry, who still hadn't quite recovered from Ron's outburst.

'This gas thing was some plot you cooked up so you didn't have to go back to the Dursleys'. You probably got Hermione to help you, or maybe his brothers,' here Dean nodded at Ron. 'Anyway, I reckon it's my duty to hand you over to the authorities. Think I'll get a reward?' Harry had obviously missed the twinkle in Dean's eyes, for he was steadily turning purple

'Look, you dimwitted idiot–' he choked off his insults as he realised everyone in the now-silent hall was staring at him. Sniggers floated over from the Slytherin table. Harry's face changed from purple to read as he turned to face the front of the hall, where Professor Dumbledore gazed at him over his glasses.

'Mr Potter, perhaps your character assassination of Mr Thomas could wait for a more appropriate time?'

'Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor,' said Harry, and tried to sink lower on the bench.

'Well then,' continued Dumbledore. 'I notice the arrival of the morning mail has raised a few hopes in the room. I am sorry to have to lower them somewhat, although they should not be dashed entirely. I myself was somewhat confused when I received my first owl from the Ministry of Magic. Some other owls have been coming and going intermittently, such as those used by the seventh years to continue their studies. It appears, from some careful testing, that this gas is now only affecting humans. This means that owls are now free to come and go, which I'm sure will be a relief to those of you wishing to contact your parents and let them know you are well. Or perhaps ask them for some extra pocket money.' A few people laughed at this, while quite a few others looked guilty. 'All other animals are also unaffected, so you will still need to keep a close eye on your pets. That includes you, Mr Longbottom.' A few more people laughed at this. Some people, especially at the Ravenclaw table, raised their hands and tried to get Dumbledore's attention. He just smiled at them. 'I believe I know what you are going to ask. Professor McGonagall has tried to get through, as has Hagrid, but they were both unsuccessful.' A few people looked disappointed, especially those with Transfiguration assignments due. 'So, as you can see, excitement is somewhat premature, but the fact that the gas is now only affecting humans is a step in the right direction. Right now you must go to your lessons, but rest assured you shall be informed as soon as there is any news.'

There was a general scraping of benches and shuffling of feet that barely concealed the groans that went around the room.

'What do we have now?' Neville asked Ron. Timetables had been a bit haphazard during their first few weeks of confinement, and some classes were still being changed around suddenly. Ron pulled out his timetable and tried to hold it steady as people pushed past him on their way out.

'It still says Charms,' he said.

Neville looked relieved. 'I was a bit worried they'd change it and give us double Potions or something like that,' he said, with a little tremor in his voice. He walked towards the door. Ron went to follow him, but was stopped by Harry's hand on his arm.

'Harry, I'm sorry about before,' he said, but Harry shook his head.

'It's okay, I know we're all getting on each others' nerves at the moment. But do you think we should go and make sure Hermione gets to class. You know how she'd hate to miss out.'

'You're right,' said Ron. 'She might be upset now, but if she found out she'd missed something in class…' They both smiled.

'Where should we look?' asked Harry. 'Girl's toilets.'

'Maybe. But if I were Hermione…'

'Nah, you'd make an ugly girl,' interrupted Harry.

'Shh,'said Ron. 'You're not helping. I think Hermione might be in the library. It's the sort of place she goes when she's upset.'

'Good idea,' said Harry. 'Let's go.'

Sure enough, they found Hermione in one of the armchairs in the library, poring over some books.

'What're you reading?' Harry said cheerily. Hermione, who hadn't heard them come in, jumped and closed the books hurriedly.

'Oh, um, nothing important,' she said distractedly. 'You know, me and books, I'm always reading something.'

'And there was I thinking you'd left your homework to the last minute again,' he teased, but she didn't even smile. He shrugged his shoulders; she obviously didn't want to talk.

'Come on, time for Charms class,' he said, and strode out of the library with Hermione and Ron trailing behind him.

As they walked down the corridor Ron went to lay a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder, but she shrank away from him.

'Hermione, is anything wrong?' he asked.

'I'm fine,' she said quietly. Ron would have said something else, but they had reached the classroom.

Everyone quickly took their seats, and as soon as they were settled Professor Flitwick started the lesson.

'Alright everyone, today we are learning to work with unfamiliar wands. I want everyone to get into pairs, swap wands, and practice basic spells such as Wingardium Leviosa.'

Hermione quickly chose Harry as her partner. She thought Ron looked a little disappointed, but that was probably just because it left Neville as his partner. She looked hesitantly over towards Draco, but he seemed to be working steadily away with Crabbe.

The rest of the lesson went smoothly. True, Harry turned Hermione's wand green at one stage, but it was a very nice shade of green. Even Neville didn't have too many problems, apart from making his feather ricochet around the room at one stage. Even that could have been worse – at least he had been levitating the feather at the time, and not Professor Flitwick, as he had been earlier in the lesson. All the same, Ron looked quite relieved to have his wand back at the end of the lesson, and examined it carefully before putting it away.

Hermione had seen no untoward behaviour from Draco – he seemed just as obnoxious towards everyone else, and was apparently still treating her as a Mudblood unworthy of his attention. She sighed, and thought back to what she had read earlier in the library. The information she had found on love potions had been quite enlightening, and as hard as it was to admit, she'd realised that her potion probably hadn't worked.

The next few days were very quiet. Classes had become rather boring; the professors had run out of fresh ideas, and so were just repeating old lessons in the guise of revision. At least they weren't setting quite as much work as they had been, obviously realising that lots of homework meant lots of marking. In fact everything had become rather boring. The Gryffindor common room was a lot quieter in the evenings, with everyone seemingly bored with each other. This boredom had had some side effects, with everyone looking warily around them as they walked through the corridors, watching out for traps set by other students or even Peeves, who was about the only one enjoying their confinement.

A few owls were coming and going, although not in as large numbers as the other morning. Hermione had been able to get a letter to her parents to reassure them that she was fine, but looking forward to going home. Ron received a parcel from his mother containing a large box of toffee. Mrs Weasley was obviously missing her children, for Ginny produced an equally large box, making the Weasleys the most popular family in the Gryffindor common room that evening, as they shared the two boxes around the room. Even Harry was happy, for he hadn't heard a single word from the Dursleys. Not that they would send him an owl anyway, but it was still nice.

The following Saturday marked the start of the fourth week of their confinement. Everyone was extremely miserable.

'I could be down at the beach right now,' said Lavender as a group of the Gryffindors walked down to breakfast together.

'I could be playing tricks on my brothers,' said Ron. 'Actually, no, I could be running away from my brothers playing tricks on me.'

'Perhaps you could all gang up on Percy,' suggested Hermione.

'Good idea,' he said. 'We could…I don't know. It's too early to think of things like that.' The group fell quite again.

'I could be practicing Quidditch,' said Seamus.

'Me too,' said Harry.

'No, you couldn't,' said Ron.

'Oh yeah,' muttered Harry. 'Dursleys. I forgot. I could be…cleaning the cupboard under the stairs with a toothbrush. Or perhaps something exciting like listening to Uncle Vernon telling everyone what a good-for-nothing ingrate I am.'

'I don't think you're good-for-nothing,' said Parvati, squeezing his arm.

'Oh no, please don't start telling us what he is good for,' groaned Dean. 'Anyway, you're only reinforcing my feelings that I should turn you over to the authorities, Harry. We all know how keen you are to go home for the holidays.' Harry ignored him, and they kept walking to the Great Hall.

Everyone stopped suddenly as they entered the room. It had undergone a radical transformation overnight. The enchanted ceiling, which had been boringly overcast for the past few days, was now a clear blue and bathing the room in sunshine. The walls were decked out in palm leaves and bright flowers, while the tables groaned beneath large bowls of tropical fruits. Even the floor had been covered with sand, which explained why Filch was looking even more surly than usual as he sat at the teachers' table. Professor Flitwick was cheerily handing out leis to the students as the entered the room, although many of the Slytherins looked unimpressed as they took them. Even the teachers were wearing them, and Ron almost laughed aloud at the expression on Snape's face as he put his on.

As soon as they were all seated Dumbledore stood up in front of them.

'Now I'm sure you're all wondering what this is all in aid of,' he said, gesturing around the hall. 'We decided that it was rather unfair that you were missing out on your holidays, so we would bring a bit of the holidays to you. Now I know there's nothing worse than hearing from your teachers while you are on holidays, so tuck in and pretend we're not here.' He beamed at them all and sat down to a loud round of applause.

Hermione grabbed a handful of strawberries from the platter in front of her, and as she bi into one she felt herself relax for the first time in days. From across the room she could hear Draco holing court with the rest of the Slytherins.

'Of course, it's not a real holiday,' she could hear him say. 'there's no foreigners to torture.' She shuddered, and tried to tune him out.

'…glad they're not here; get and Fred and George near sand and it's never good news for me,' Ron was saying.

'They shove it in your clothes?' asked Seamus.

'Oh no, that I could cope with. I remember they're favourite trick was transfiguring piles of sand into icecream so that it'd turn back just as I was about to swallow.'

'Tasty,' said Hermione. 'Although, I sometimes wish I'd had brothers and sisters to go on holiday with. It can be fairly boring with just parents.'

'Boring?' said Harry. 'That's the least of your worries. You've obviously never been on holidays with the Dursleys.'

'Well, obviously not,' said Hermione. 'I think you'd have noticed.'

'I don't know, you could've been hidden behind Dudley. Wouldn't have been hard to miss you there.' The others laughed.

'You know, you should come on a beach holiday with us next time we go,' Ron said to her. There was a small cough from next to him. 'You and Harry, of course,' he added. Hermione just smiled.

After all the students had stuffed themselves silly on fruit, and were starting to get giggly from the sugar, they wandered out the Hall and heading back towards their common rooms. There was a bit of a squash as everyone tried to get through the doors at once, and Hermione got separated from the rest of the Gryffindors. The sand had been kicked up, and it made her sneeze. She reached into her pocket for a tissue, and frowned as her fingers encountered a piece of paper. Her jeans had been washed during the week, and she knew she'd only put a tissue in before she'd come to breakfast. She slowed down as she opened the paper curiously. There was a single line of writing on it. She read it, paused for a second, then dropped it as if she had been burnt.

One of the first years who had been dawdling on his way back to the common room watched as she ran towards the girls' toilets. He picked up the piece of paper she had dropped and read it curiously.

'Meet me at the entrance to the Great Hall at eight o'clock tonight.'


End file.
